


visceral

by YouAreMyDesign



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Aggression, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Creampie, Dark Will Graham, Established Relationship, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Knotting, M/M, Oral Knotting, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Top Will Graham, Werewolf Will Graham, Werewolves, Will Graham is a Cannibal, spitting, spitting in mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 00:38:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18457916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouAreMyDesign/pseuds/YouAreMyDesign
Summary: It is a primal urge, to scent-mark his house, his den, and everything inside it.





	visceral

Will enters his home covered in blood, snarling, peeling fresh flesh from his shoulders and neck as he shakes off the last of his wolf form. His shoulders ache, and his knees and ankles snap and pop back into place as he forces himself upright, growling and wiping the inside of his wrist along his mouth. Clotted blood from his fresh kill coats his teeth, and his tongue, and he lets saliva pool and drip, smearing his hands along the doorframe and the back of the chair by the front of his house.

It is a primal urge, to scent-mark his house, his den, and everything inside it.

He casts his gaze around – his vision is still with that unnatural sharpness, seeing only oranges and blues of heat and comparative chill. He sees, clinging like a fog, the scent of himself in his bed, rising up as the mattress loses warmth. Sees evidence of another, passing through the air like a phantom.

He snarls again, lifting his upper lip, flexes his claws and drips blood and viscera onto the floor. There exists only one thought in him now: _Mate_. Where is his mate? He should be here. Will is home and he should be here.

He drops his gaze to the bed, prowls to it and crawls into place where the heat is thickest. Leans down, and rubs his bloody muzzle against the pillow where his mate sleeps. Breathes in deeply, smearing wet and red. Oh, there's the scent; it floods Will's lungs like water, makes him ache, makes his stomach clench up sharply and his cock hang hard between his bare thighs.

He pushes his hand down, wraps it around his cock, wetting it. When he finds his mate, he'll fuck him through the kill.

He hears movement, and rises, eyes sharpening on the orange-glow silhouette of – _oh_. He snarls again, rising, every muscle in him shuddering and warm from the hunt. He moves from the bed swiftly, lunges for the shape of the other creature.

He digs his claws in, finds soft fabric and warm skin beneath it, and growls loudly, parts his teeth and sets them to a soft jaw – soft throat. _Bite, bite_. He breathes in, the growl abruptly turning to a purr when he smells it's his mate – oh, good, he's here. Will would have chased him for miles, followed his scent wherever it led, but a good mate is always ready when their wolf comes home.

"Turn around," he says, though the words are barely human, let alone English.

His mate shivers, trembling under his heat and weight, and Will loses patience with him quickly. He should know better by now, and always be ready. He hauls his mate around, shoves him over the small, creaking dining room table and tears at fabric until he feels flesh.

He leans down with a purr, breathes in the scent of him, shuddering when one hand slides in, finds soft skin, wet, he's wet. Oh, good, perfect for breeding; slick, warm, open for him. He pulls his hand back and ruts with his cock, blind and rude, and his bloody cockhead finds his mate's slick, hot hole, and he shoves in with another snarl.

His mate whimpers weakly, clenching up around him; he's so eager, so sweet. Will purrs, licks over the nape of his neck, bites down savagely through cloth and skin as he fucks in. The smell of fake, chemical lubricant is easily replaced by the scent of his mate. His knot pulses at the base of his cock already, wanting to swell, to lock them together. He doesn't resist the urge – his mate is here, he was here and ready for Will, and Will bites down until he tastes fresh blood.

How the fuck his mate is always so Goddamn sweet, Will might never know, but he is, and floods Will's mouth as Will fucks him brutally, pinning him to the table and mounting him. " _Fuck_ ," he snarls, through blood and flesh and sweet, sweet heat. _God_ , he feels so fucking good, parts so nicely around Will's cock.

His mate trembles, reaching back to tug at Will's hair – always so eager, urging him on. Wants him rough, wants to know Will is the powerful one between them; the wild wolf, who can feed and fuck him better than anyone else can.

Will lets out a loud, viscerally satisfied noise as he presses in deep, smelling no other wolf on his mate, knowing he was good and chaste while Will was away. Good; Will would kill anyone who touched him, if he even _smelled_ anyone on his mate, he'd kill them all.

He fucks in, rutting his cock deep into his mate's sweet hole as he sinks in as far as he can, until his knot starts to swell, pushing up against pulsing muscle and spasming flesh. He closes his eyes when he feels it lock, sinking in past the first bite of resistance, and digs his teeth into his mate, tearing through his shoulder as his knot locks firmly, because they were made for each other, they're meant for each other, and fit together like puzzle pieces.

He comes with a howl, hands slamming down on the table on either side of his mate's body, panting as his cock becomes wet with his seed. He shivers, sensitive, but unable to pull out because of his knot, and the sweet tightness of his mate urges him to keep moving, rutting his knot against that little spot inside him that makes it feel just as good for him.

He drops a hand, finds his mate's cock, strokes tight and quick with his bloody hand until his mate whines, going still, and the air bursts with the scent of him, staining Will's hand. He purrs, smiling, and licks over the bloody bite marks on his mate's neck and shoulders, cradles his throat and lets the lovely way his mate pulses and spasms around him draw his seed deeper. Maybe he'll breed, this time – he is so wet, smells so good and sweet. Will's human brain knows he can't get his mate pregnant, but his wolf brain only recognizes slick and eagerness.

He blinks, slowly, as his vision finally calms, his instincts dulled by his orgasm. Orange heat becomes hair, red becomes flushed cheeks and bitten shoulders. The silhouette gains edges, forms into the trembling, sated shape of his mate – of Hannibal.

He breathes his mate's name, nuzzling his sweaty hair. Hannibal is a mess, caked with remnants of Will's shed, bloody pelt; another layer, from his kill. Will spits onto his nape and licks it clean as Hannibal shivers, and turns his head, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

Will snarls, and shoves him down again. "No," he demands, and guides Hannibal's hips up, makes his thighs come together so his ass is raised. "No. Stay still."

Hannibal nods, once, and goes limp in obedience. Oh, _good boy_. Will smiles, though it's more teeth than a shape of his mouth, and nuzzles his mate's soft hair. His purr is loud and rumbling, vibrating from his chest to Hannibal's back.

"Where were you?" he demands. Hannibal should be here, always, ready for Will to mount him when he comes home. Should have been prostrate and open on their bed for Will to walk in and fuck right away.

Hannibal sighs, and though his body is shivering with aftershocks, his voice doesn't shake – he is used to Will's post-hunt brutality, now, and knows Will is more animal than man the first few hours after his shift. "I wasn't sure if you'd have brought food home," he says calmly, and pets through Will's hair. "I wanted to be prepared."

Will huffs, but allows it, idly dragging his claws through the rest of Hannibal's clothes, tearing them apart and shedding them until he's as bare as Will. Hannibal knows, now, not to wear things he's too attached to when Will comes for him.

Will didn't bring his kill home, but if his mate is hungry, he will never deny him.

He tugs back sharply, his knot still half-swollen, a thick river of his seed spilling out of his mate as his red rim clenches up, trying to keep it inside. Good boy, trying to keep Will inside him. Will snarls, and rucks his fingers into his mate's hair, yanking him upright.

"On your knees," he whispers, and Hannibal shivers, falling to his knees at Will's feet. Will is still coming, cock twitching weakly against his mate's flushed cheek. Hannibal raises his eyes, his lips parted, tongue snaking out to catch some of the mess. Will smirks, off-kilter and wide, and grabs his mate's chin, sinking his thumb between his soft lips and yanking his lower jaw down.

Will gathers another clot on his tongue, smiles and parts his teeth, leans down and spits a heavy wad of saliva, watching it drip onto Hannibal's outstretched tongue. Hannibal's lashes flutter, his shoulders roll, and Will pets the blood over his tongue, sinks his claw in deep until he feels the back of Hannibal's throat give beneath the press of his touch.

He leans down further, tilts his head and lets his bloody saliva drip down in another thick wad, and Hannibal moans weakly, tongue curling around Will's thumb. His other hand drops to his cock, fisting his knot with a snarl, and he pulls his thumb out, replacing it with his cock.

He grabs Hannibal's hair, drives in deep until Hannibal's throat spasms as he gags. Will sighs, straightens, tips his head back as Hannibal pets over his thighs and stomach. He clenches up, purring loudly, and works his thumbs into the side of Hannibal's mouth, stretching his plush lips tight and working his teeth apart so he can force his knot behind them.

Hannibal moans, weakly, stuffed full and dripping wet. Will can smell his own seed dripping from his mate's ass, smell the sweat and blood Will put on him, inside him, and the wolf in him is howling, supremely satisfied at the fact that his mate is here, here for Will to use and fill as he likes.

He wraps his fingers in Hannibal's hair, tugs harshly to feel the press of teeth behind his knot, the sore clench of Hannibal's jaw as he spasms, trying to breathe around it. Will purrs, pets down his face, smiles down at him, admiring the fall of his blood-wet hair, his lowered lashes, his flared nostrils and flushed cheeks.

"Good boy," he rasps, thumbing the sharp line of cheekbone as Hannibal swallows around his cock, moaning weakly. " _Fuck_ , such a good, sweet -. _Fuck_." Hannibal lets out a soft, plaintive noise, choking as Will thrusts deep. His knot goes down after another moment, and he finishes coming inside Hannibal's throat with another jerk, and pulls back, snarling when Hannibal's teeth catch on his cockhead.

He hauls Hannibal upright, shoves him against the table and prowls over him, lunging onto the table and pressing him onto his back. Hannibal shivers, parts his thighs, bends his knees to cling at Will's hips, his hands sweeping through the blood and flesh still coating him.

"Will, darling," he says, and he sounds so weak and hoarse, as animal as Will is. His nails drag over Will's chest, up into his hair, and Will shows his teeth in another snarl. Hannibal growls back at him, pretty and red, and rears up for a kiss.

Will bites, sharp teeth splitting Hannibal's lower lip, hands cupping his face and slamming him back down onto the table as Will settles over him. Hannibal's dirty stomach, his torn flanks leak sluggishly, every part of him wet and open for Will.

Will shivers, grinding against Hannibal's soft stomach. "So good, baby," he whispers. He smiles when Hannibal kisses him again, licks gently over the bite Will laid to his lower lip. "God, I wanna fuck you all fucking night."

"I'm here," Hannibal replies, and he is, he _is_ , and he's all Will's for the taking. Will snarls again, kisses him fiercely, and climbs from the table, dragging Hannibal to unsteady feet. Will is shaking, adrenaline and orgasm making him weak, but he has to be strong for Hannibal – has to prove, month after month, that he's the best wolf for his mate, that he can provide for them, can hunt for them both.

Hannibal goes to him, nosing Will's neck, and Will's purr grows loud and wanton, he lowers his lashes as Hannibal licks at his jaw, and over his mouth, like wolves do to show their submission. It settles something in Will, that until now had its hackles raised and its teeth bared.

He smiles, nuzzling Hannibal softly, their cheeks brushing, and tugs Hannibal back to the bed. "Come here, baby," he coaxes, putting Hannibal on the mattress, on his hands and elbows. Pushes, until his chest hits the sheets and his ass is raised. Will kneels behind him, breathing heavily, petting down his strong, trembling back. "Gonna breed you for real tonight, I promise."

Hannibal shivers, and looks at Will over his shoulder. He licks his lips, parts them, and reaches back to paw at Will's hand.

"Please," he whispers, weak and rough, and Will growls, upper lip lifting, eyes rolling back in his head as he grabs his cock, strokes until he's hard enough to push into his mate again, letting Hannibal's body swallow him whole. He shoves in, relishing the tight, slick heat that envelops him, and puts his claws in his mate's shoulders.

He blinks, and his vision turns red again. "Don't move," he warns, and Hannibal shivers, and nods, correcting his position so that when Will fucks him, he can do it as brutally as he likes. And Will does – fucks and snarls, rising to the balls of his feet so he can put all his weight behind his thrusts, work his cock as deep into his mate's slick ass as he fucks him full.

When his knot starts to swell again, he goes still, collapsing over Hannibal and pushing him to his belly. Hannibal isn't a wolf, isn't alight with the energy of the moon, so he can't get hard again so soon. Will nuzzles the back of Hannibal's neck, breathing out heavily, sated and lax on Hannibal's broad, strong back.

"That's real good, darlin'," he drawls, petting up Hannibal's heaving flanks. He ruts against his mate, sighing and purring, and hums when Hannibal turns his head and meets him for an off-center kiss. Will smiles, nudging his nose to Hannibal's temple, and sighs again. "So good for me. Takin' my knot so well."

Hannibal hums, petting through Will's hair. Will jerks his hips in answer, testing the seal of his knot, purring when he finds it stuck tight. Hannibal winces, and Will licks over his jaw, petting his sides gently, attempting to soothe.

"You must be gentle now, darling," Hannibal breathes. Will growls, but relents, rubbing his cheek over the bite he laid on Hannibal's shoulder. He slides a hand up, cups Hannibal's jaw, rubbing tenderly at the sore corner of his mouth.

" _Must_ I?" he snaps, without much heat.

Hannibal huffs a quiet laugh. His legs move, stretching between Will's, his fingers carding through Will's dirty, messy hair. Will huffs, lips at his neck, and sighs heavily.

"Don't move," he whispers. Hannibal smiles at him. "Gonna fuck you again. Then maybe I'll let you leave."

Hannibal huffs, in a good humor, his scent sweet and happy as Will licks over the bite he planted on Hannibal's shoulder. "I assure you, darling, I'm not going anywhere." Though Will knows this, it sends a shiver of pleasure down his spine, and he tightens his arms around his mate. "Though perhaps you'll be inclined to shower, after."

Will growls. Showering means losing his scent. He nudges his nose to Hannibal's hair, bites at his ear and tugs like he might with a fellow wolf. Hannibal merely laughs. "Maybe," he concedes, but doesn't make an effort to move. Hannibal doesn't make him; just settles onto the bed and gets comfortable while they wait out Will's knot.


End file.
